


412

by CalsLaundry



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 03:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17460149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalsLaundry/pseuds/CalsLaundry
Summary: -He gave you a soft kiss, one that spoke every word in his heart and it was the moment you knew you wanted to spend your life with him.But it wasn’t long after that your hope to spend your life with him fell from your grasp.The moments spent in that memory comforted you in a way with which you were no longer familiar. Tomorrow won’t welcome that comfort. But maybe there’ll be some closure. If he’s moved on, maybe it’ll be the kick you need. Or maybe it’s just another “goodbye” you won’t be able to escape.-You and Gabriel broke up over a year ago, but things are tough. But he returns to your life with a surprising turn.





	412

It’s been 412 days.

You hate that you can say that with certainty. 

412 mornings with a pit in your stomach.

Fewer alone since you’d tried your best to replace him. 

But still 412 where you wished it was him. 

 

Heartbreak had become familiar, and in many ways, you thought it made you weak. In the time you’d been apart, you hadn’t forgotten him for even a moment. His presence was air and the lack of him drowned you in the sorrow of pure loneliness. It is a raw feeling. It sparks every morning, right in your sternum. It caves in on your lungs until they fill with sorrow. Your breath is tinged in the scent of your loss, and every day you hope it’ll clear. It never does.

Any relief that could have offered itself slips away with the first breath of morning, and that weight sits on your chest without a care. It’ll stay there for the day, demanding attention like some spoiled child and you’ll give it what it needs to keep it quiet.

Tomorrow is your anniversary.

Would be. 

You lost the right to celebrate it 412 days ago.

You drag yourself out of bed and ignore the date where you can. It’s a lead weight dangling from your heart. Usually there’s some distraction from it all, but now, the whole world’s traffic can’t block it out. You hate that it lingers, like some bad smell. But you put on your bravest face and you go about your day as if it didn’t drive a dagger through you. 

After a day of smiles and laughs and the slightest touch from Matt-one you hoped could mean something a little more but one you dreaded the thought of at the same time- you’re exhausted. A small dinner and a shower later, you’re in bed, warm and comfortable at last. You snuggle down under your favourite blanket, and sleep tugs at you until a chime disrupts it. You wonder who could text at this hour, but your mouth dries when you see a number that hasn’t graced your phone in 412 days.

 

> **11:13pm**
> 
> **Gabriel**
> 
> Hi. I’m sorry to text so late. I know it’s been a while, but I was hoping I could meet you tomorrow?

 

At least he hasn’t changed; straight to the point as ever before. But to see the name alone stings you. Every possibility runs through you. 

Something of yours you’d left with him?

Someone else? Is he finally with someone who is enough?

A sliver of you, the tiniest particle in you wants to think the anniversary got to him too, but you don’t hold out hope. Hope is nothing. Hope is for children, for the naive mind. It’s something you lost when you lost him. 

 

> **11:15pm**
> 
> **Me**
> 
> Sure.

 

You stare at the ceiling. It’s late enough that a response isn’t expected, and the possibilities swirl in your head. You’ll never sleep with this in mind; already the worry makes your stomach a whirlpool of anxiety. It’s almost enough for you to cancel. But the chime comes again and you look at your phone much too quickly.

 

> **11:15pm**
> 
> **Gabriel**
> 
> 11:45 at The Hideout?

 

You roll your eyes. Of course he’d choose there.

 

> **11:16pm**
> 
> **Me**
> 
> See you then.

 

Sleep will evade you, you know this. But for the first time in 412 days, you indulge that piece of your heart that begs you to let him in, to remember the good times, to remember how much you loved him. It makes your chest cave in but a small smile pulls at your lips at the last memory-the last good one- with him. When you’d woken up at 6am because the world whispered in your ear that you should. You stretched in the rosy light, and that same light illuminated Gabriel like the angel of his name. He was peaceful, a little messy, and so perfectly at ease. You stayed sitting up, and pulled your knees to your chest to fold your arms on them. The movement woke Gabriel. He blinked sleep away, and met your gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” 

He sat up, bumped his shoulder against yours, and gave your cheek a quick kiss. 

“You’re up early.” 

You shrugged.

“It happens.”

“I’m glad it did.” 

You offered him a question in a look.

“It means a few moments more with you today”

“We’re together all the time, Gabriel” 

“And it’s not quite enough” 

He gave you a soft kiss, one that spoke every word in his heart and it was the moment you knew you wanted to spend your life with him.

But it wasn’t long after that your hope to spend your life with him fell from your grasp.

The moments spent in that memory comforted you in a way with which you were no longer familiar. Tomorrow won’t welcome that comfort. But maybe there’ll be some closure. If he’s moved on, maybe it’ll be the kick you need. Or maybe it’s just another “goodbye” you won’t be able to escape.

 

The Hideout is just as it’s always been. It was such a regular haunt for you and Gabriel, now it is barely visited. You never could face the idea of seeing him haunt it with someone who isn’t you. You know you’re early, only by a few minutes, but early all the same, and you hope he isn’t. But there he is; two cups and two plates on the table as he checks his phone. He looks good.

Who are you kidding?

He looks incredible.

He’s barely changed; his goatee is as tidy as ever, speckled with silver. His hair has the same dotted silver. It shows his age beautifully. His black cotton shirt shows off his form, still powerful, and you know he’s paired it with dark blue jeans because he’s dressed the same since he was a teenager(his words, not yours). 

Your heart sinks through your chest, through your stomach, through your legs. 

_ I can’t do this _ .

For a brief moment, you wonder if you should just leave. He hasn’t seen you, you don’t owe him this discussion. 

But you owe yourself and you know it. You need this to clear the last webs of your relationship.

So you go against your instinct, and you cross the small cafe until you’re in front of him and he looks up.

And for the first time in 412 days, your eyes meet his in a gaze that makes your chest burst and your lungs collapse and you know you’re staring, but you don’t know how to look away. His eyes are still more beautiful than a galaxy.

“Hi.”

The word comes out as a hoarse whisper and you didn’t even mean to say it. 

“Hi.”

You sit and glance at the cup. Another smile breaks through you, and you look up at him.

“I hope your favourite hasn’t changed.”

There’s a smirk playing on his lips. If he hadn’t broken your heart, it would be like nothing changed. But he did. And everything changed. The smile falls from your lips and instead, you straighten your back.

“It hasn’t. Thank you. How have things been?”

You take a sip and watch him. He rubs his hand over his cheek, and you see through the perfection your heart shows you. He’s tired. Exhausted. 

“They’ve...been. How about you?”

You shrug.

“About the same.”

You fall to silence, and in the absence of conversation, you sip your drink again. You watch him when he looks away. Even exhausted, he looks gorgeous. Moments pass, and while the awkwardness and hurt is still there, you wonder if it would be too awkward to pick at the pastry on the table. 

“I’m sorry.”

His words break you from your thoughts. You meet his eyes, and you see he truly is sorry.

“I know.”

“I never meant for all...this.”

The awkwardness? The hurt? The 412 days of emptiness and sorrow and grieving that didn’t end?

“Gabriel, can I ask you something?”

The words come from nowhere, but you know they’re the ones you’ve been crushing into dust each time they appear. He doesn’t speak, only nods once.

“Why did you break up with me?”

The silence changes. Where it was awkward, now it crushes you. Both of you. You see the hurt flash in his eyes, and for a moment, you regret even asking. But you deserve an answer.

“You know why.”   
“No, I don’t. I’ve racked my brain since it ended to find something I did wrong, something you saw or heard, someone you found. But there’s nothing there. It’s like you just flicked a switch, and went from loving me to...not”

The last word comes out as a whisper and you hate that you’ve betrayed yourself. He looks at the ground, but you hold your resolve. Betrayed or otherwise, you need an answer. His own words come out quiet, but with an edge of acquaintance.

“I’ve never flicked that switch.”

A shuddering breath slips over your lips and your breath catches. You can’t keep looking at him, so you look back to your cup.

“Then what happened?”

You see him look up at the top of your vision but you don’t mirror him.

“There was more for you.”   
You stay silent; an invitation for him to continue.

“You’re young, you needed someone like you, someone who could keep up and understand everything in your world. I tried, but God knows, there are plenty who could do it better.”

You shake your head.

“No. They couldn’t. Someone young isn’t what I wanted, and you know it. I wanted you, age or otherwise. I thought we’d gotten past that.”

“I saw how they were with you, the men your age. They understood your humour, your life. I tried. You know I did. But I was not enough for that. I can’t keep you happy. There’s such a difference, and you deserve better.”

“That’s not for you to decide” 

He licks his lips in awe at your outburst.

“It was you I wanted, and every replacement has failed to come close. You left me wondering, and I wanted to believe something, but I never thought you’d be so...shallow to assume I need someone that you think is more fitting.” He starts to speak, but you keep talking, “that’s not for you to decide, Gabriel. You were who I wanted to be with. I might be younger than you, and that can bug  _ you _ all you want, but not once did it bother me. The fact that you thought you knew what was good for me shows you’re the childish one here, not me. I know what I want.”

Silence falls again. There’s a lump in your throat and a pain behind your eyes from keeping the tears from falling. 

“And what is that?”

“You.”

With that one word, the world stops existing. He stares, and you keep talking. 

“I don’t know if you’ve met someone else, I don’t know why you wanted to see me, but just, before you tell me, let me tell you something,” you take a breath, “I’ve spent all the time we’ve been apart trying to find someone new. I tried to replace you, forget you, find you in someone else. No one is you. I never knew why you left, and not knowing brought its own feeling. I don’t hate you for it. I’m not even angry, really. But to know you did it because of what you thought was good for me leaves its own sour taste.”

His face is serious, and you can’t figure it out. 

“I’m sorry I did that. It wasn’t fair of me to assume I knew best.” 

“Thank you.” 

The look that catches the two of you brings everything back to where it was 412 days ago. But now it’s different. 

“I should have talked to you about this.”

“You should have.”

“You’ve gotten cheeky.” 

“It’s youthful rebellion.”

He wonders for a moment if you’re really holding it over him, but your smirk betrays you and he smiles.

“I’ll never hear the end of this.”

“Nope.”

 

The rest of the day flies. There’s a lot to catch up on, and before you know it, evening light sneaks onto your lap.

“Well, I should get going.”

“Yeah, me too,” he pauses a moment, “thank you for meeting me.” 

“Thank you for telling me everything.” You offer him a smile and you stand together.

“Can I walk you home?” 

“Sure.”   
“Same place?” 

You nod.

Outside, the air is rather still, but there’s a chill in the evening that makes you shiver. You feel Gabriel’s arm lift behind you but drop. You smile at how easy it is for him to try to go back to normal. It feels sneaky when you lick your lips to speak.

“So since we broke up, have you tried to date anyone else?”

He stiffens beside you.

“Be honest.”

“A few” he sighs, then waits a beat, “But none of them were you.”

“Yeah, I get that.” 

He looks at you but you don’t turn.

“I’ve tried the whole dating thing and it just kind of didn’t fit.” 

You see him smile. 

“I see that smile, Reyes.” 

Your apartment building comes into view, but Gabriel shows no signs of stopping. You figure it means he’s going right to the door. The silence that comes now is no longer awkward or question filled, but comfortable and relaxed.

The elevator ride is silent and outside your door, the silence remains.  _ What’s the etiquette?  _   
“Thank you for today” 

You smile up at him and out of sheer habit, you hug him. You freeze, perhaps it’s too far, but he hugs you back and nestles his face into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t let go and neither do you.

“Today was nice.” His voice is muffled by your neck. 

“It was.”   
He licks his lips, a motion that brushes your neck just slightly, and he speaks again.

“I know you said those others didn’t fit.” 

You nod. 

“I think I know why.”

He turns you until your back is at the door, and his hands roam over your back and tease up your sides before he puts them on the door behind you, caging you between them. The way he looms over you sends shivers through you, and you want so badly to pull him down and kiss the breath from him. But you know better.

“Gabriel, I want this.” 

He moves a little closer but you put your hand on his chest.

“But I won’t do it if it’s just this once. I don’t want another ‘goodbye’.” 

“There won’t be one. I was a fool to let you go. I lost you, and it’s only a stroke of luck for me that no one else had you. I’m lucky you want this, I’m lucky you want me, and I want to make sure you know every day for the rest of your life just how grateful I am to have you.” 

He leans in and kisses you, and it’s like a repeat of your very first kiss. Your fingers trace his jaw before they bury in his hair, and his arms wrap around you in a way that’s almost possessive. He pulls back just an inch, so you still feel his lips move as he speaks.

“Let me have you, sweetheart, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

You turn and open the door, but you’re barely inside when he captures you again. Everything lost to the last year comes through; every touch, kiss, whisper of affection. They stirred in you when he kissed you first, and now you feel yourself already excited and far too eager to have him. No one else has compared. He holds your hand as you lead him to your bedroom. It’s changed but he barely rakes his eyes over the details before he kisses you again. He walks you backwards as he does so, until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fall back with a grunt. You laugh and he does too and you know that he missed you as much as you missed him. You pull his clothes and he pulls at yours, already falling back to familiar rhythm. He still knows your body as if it’s his own, and each carefully placed kiss and nip is met with a sweet moan. It’s not long before you’re bare to each other. He doesn’t give you much time to admire. His lips are back to yours and his hands are on your thighs, squeezing and groaning as he does so. 

“I missed this, I missed you.” The words are bare grunts against your lips but you reciprocate them with touches and nods. He slides from the bed to his knees and kisses your inner thighs.

“Gabriel, don’t tease!” you giggle at the feeling, but it shifts to a moan as he nips the spot he knows you love. 

“I only want to make sure you’re ready for me,  _ hermosa _ .”

He places a kiss to your entrance, followed by the tip of his tongue tracing through your wetness. He twists and teases and sucks in ways all too familiar and ways you missed. But it’s not enough and you card your fingers through his hair until he looks up at you.

“Need you inside me.”

He responds with a curt nod, and he stands. He’s as thick and long as you remember, and you bite your lip in anticipation. He teases you with the tip of himself and you groan through laughter.

“Gabriel~”

He chuckles, and slips into you slowly. The feeling is like being split apart after such a long time without him. Your mouth opens and your breath hitches, but your voice is gone. His hips meet yours and he stills above you as he adjusts. His breath is as caught as yours, but still he kisses you. It’s soft and slow, not unlike the last time you’d been with him, but this time, the air sparks with the pink feeling of reconnection. The full feeling is paired with a feeling of wholeness. You move together, tracing paths and lines that should long be forgotten, kissing sweet spots and nipping skin until marks begin to blossom and the sting of teeth dulls to a familiar and wistful ache. With each thrust, you get closer. His body fits yours perfectly and you whimper his name at every chance. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You force your gaze to his face and he smiles. “You look incredible, I’ve missed you more than any words can say.” You clutch at his shoulders, your nails dig crescent marks into them. 

“I missed you too, God, I missed you”

Your stomach tightens and you try to tell him, but he feels you clench.

“You’re so close already, I told you I knew why those others couldn’t keep you.”

Your climax is a hair away, right on the fringe of your being.

“We’re made for each other.”

You nod frantically, mutter his name, gasp for air, and fight through it all to reply.

“I’m yours, love.”

Your own words set off your orgasm, and you moan his name loud. He follows quickly, fills you without asking because he knows you won’t say no. He falls to your side and pulls you close. Together, you catch your breath, and you find that same position that fit so well before. Everything seems right and good. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Gabriel.” 

You share one more sweet kiss before sleep tugs at you. He kisses your hair and you know that when you wake you’ll feel whole again. With your hands tangled and your bodies too close, you already do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
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